Sweet Dreams
by IrisCarter123
Summary: An extract from twilight from Edwards point of view. So sort of like midnight sun, but not. With inspiration from Keat's poem "Eve of St. Agnes." PLease read :


Hunger is a word I once thought I knew every connotation of. After spending eighty years living, or rather existing, with an intense hunger, a burning so constant I had almost become accustomed to the flames which licked relentlessly at my insides, I had assumed my family and I had grasped the concept of the word entirely.

And yet here I was. Running through the darkness, hungering for a fruit so forbidden, it was the blackest form of sin to seek it out. But this recent craving was insatiable.

Tonight, in my haste, I didn't hesitate to appreciate the dense scent of the forest the way I usually would have. Unlike the area in town, the atmosphere here was pure. Free from the artificial metal and brick and grit; a refreshing combination of elderly oak, damp from the salty, misting rain, and wild flowers; each ones unique scent stirring under the subtle midnight breeze, which kept the area around me constantly in motion.

Not a single fluttering heartbeat of a frightened rodent, or the quickened rise and fall of a bird's chest beneath ruffled feathers, disturbed the whispers of the wind. The forest was dead. A sign of the danger nearby no doubt; fear was noiseless in the wilderness.

Snap. I froze instantly, tensing into an innate defensive crouch, a reaction to the break in the silence. A feral snarl rumbled in my chest to warn off whatever creature had interrupted my thought process.

"Chill out Edward! It's me. You know, you're far to on edge these days, it can't be good for …"

"Rose!" I interrupted her, half relieved half furious. I had wheeled around to see her leaning casually against the trunk of an old willow, a look of indifference on her face concealing some other emotion she didn't want me to see. "What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, trying with a great deal of effort to reign in my annoyance.

"Hello brother dear. I'm fine, thank you for asking." She tried to look disheartened but I knew her better than that. "As I gather we aren't in the mood for observing pleasantries this evening, I'll get straight to it. You know how I enjoy a nice night time walk… fresh air, observing the wildlife etcetera…" she gestured with bored sarcasm to the obvious emptiness around us. "Now I think the real question at hand is what are _you _doing here?"

I took in a deep breath to try and calm myself before answering "I don't think that's any of your business", not quite able to keep the edge of frustration from colouring my voice. I was wasting time; each second was precious…

"I beg to differ brother" she snapped back, her apathetic façade was faltering now, her eyes blazed with anger. "I think that you _killing _this girl would be my business entirely!"

I felt my face go rigid as a sucked in a sharp breath, trying and banish the image her words had brought into my head.

We were silent for a moment. I could feel her anger and my grief rolling off our bodies, clashing in the space between us.

Finally I composed myself. "Rose. If you know me at all, you know I wouldn't… I can control myself…"

"Clearly not Edward!" she hissed into the darkness. "If you had _any_ self control whatsoever, you wouldn't be doing this! Creeping up into her room every night, following her in the shadows! It's wrong."

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think it's tormented me every second I've been there?"

"Then come home Edward. Come on, just forget about Bella." I shuddered as she said the name. "She's just a girl" she whispered, her irritation calming as she patted my shoulder.

I sighed and took a step back. "It's not that simple… you don't understand Rose… I _have _to see her. I need to make sure she's safe…"

"Ha!" she sniggered, eyes flickering with annoyance again. "What kind of protector are _you_? I'd bet she would be safer with the Grim Reaper sat in her room! You idiotic boy! God I wish you could hear yourself! Irresponsible fool…"

She was ranting now and I had grown tired of her objections. She would never be able to condone what I was doing, and I didn't blame her. It was wrong and dangerous and selfish. But as I turned to leave my angry sister in the woods, I pictured Bella's face, which I would be seeing in a few moments. And nothing else mattered.

***

I motioned towards the house and lingered underneath the second story window. It was partially open tonight and the soft netting which cloaked the frame inside, blew carelessly out into the moonlight.

I contemplated turning around and running as far away as possible, when a subtle change in the pressure of the room sent a fresh stream of air though the window. I stood for a moment, feeling the heat radiating from it, cascading down over every inch of my frozen body, and allowed the flames to rip through me.

It passed, eventually, and returned to the dull throbbing of fire that I was used to. After gathering my fragmented thoughts I scaled the side of the house and landed through the open window without so much as a low thud.

Taking in my surroundings, I noticed that little had changed since the previous night. It was a small room, with a desk in one corner, covered in piles of books and papers. The walls were bare, except for a peg by the door holding a familiar blue jacket, the floor still dotted with CD cases and odd shoes. My eyes devoured the setting, lit only briefly by the faded moon made dim by silver twilight, saving the most important aspect till last.

The bed was pushed towards the west wall of the room, opposite the window where I stood. My body, I noticed, was casting a dim shadow there, and so I backed into a corner to be seated silently in the small rocking chair, not once removing my eyes from the scene before me.

Bella was restless when she slept. Perhaps, I pondered mentally, in this relaxed state of unconsciousness her body was able to detect the danger she seemed so oblivious to in waking hours.

I was distracted as she rolled onto her side, twisting the covers which tangled around her body. I could see her face now, and for a few moments that was all. It was all I saw though my eyes, in my mind. It was the present and the future; the past ceasing to exist at all.

Her dark mane of thick hair was practically black in this light. Tonight it framed the pearly white face, which was glistening with the slight perspiration of an unpleasant dream, I thought. Her scarlet lips had parted a little, allowing a faint breath to escape them as she sighed and motioned again.

The eyes, my favourite part of the face, were closed in slumber, locking away the secrets of her thoughts in deep brown pools beneath lily-petal lids.

I sat motionless, for an immeasurable moment, recalling every surface of the face. Each soft line and curve, every contour, each freckle, carefully searching for some minute detail I had failed to account for. I was stalling. Postponing the internal debate that I knew was about to commence. Rosalie was undeniably right. I should not be here.

If I had one ounce of sanity left in my tainted mind, I would leave. If I had even a shred of the compassion or kindness in my being that would make one worthy of a soul, I would not be here. But I didn't. I didn't have a soul, I was sure of it. I had been eternally damned to this miserable purgatory, a life without meaning or purpose or change… until she had arrived. And now heaven didn't seem like such a distant place…

However this was irrelevant and I was essentially a selfish creature, despicable and vile in numerous ways. So I sat in the darkness, smothered by the toxic fragrance emanating off every surface, fighting my every instinct to keep seated in the chair.

The raging conflicts of my thoughts took over, repeating the argument I had recited over a thousand times.

I should leave her. For someone like myself who practiced daily, a ritual of self control, avoiding every innate desire my body urged for, this should be a trivial task.

I sighed and let the flames rip through me once again; allowing my eyes to wander back to her face, sleeping still, with a small perplexed line between the eyes, as if something in the dream was frustrating her.

She appeared vulnerable, a slight thing, who looked as though one reckless movement would shatter her into a thousand pieces. I knew only too well how true that was. Yet I had learned that, fragile as she may seem, her selfless and brave nature had made her strong internally. Now, whenever I looked at those delicate features, I could practically feel passion and courage radiating through each pore of her body; she was magnificent in a way which was almost unendurable.

She deserved a life of warmth and security, things which I knew I could never provide.

But the… agony. The crushing grief which crippled my stone body each time I had tried to imagine my life without her. She was the sun in a life where darkness had seemed an inevitable future.

I was not strong enough… not yet. I would try to be, for I owed it to her to make the effort.

That was my conclusion for the night. I would savour the moments I spent with her now, not dwelling on the danger and jeopardy I inflicted when I came, but on the compromise that my presence in her life would not be permanent.

I was interrupted from my resolve when she tossed, quite violently, in her sleeping state. Her breathing had become noticeably faster, as the blanched linen under which she lay, rose and fell with a higher velocity. Her face, gleaming now under the silver light, was contorted with a pained expression.

I longed to be at her side, to comfort her through this nightmare. To stroke her ivory cheek with my hand and have it provide some level of consolation, some warmth… but I knew that was an unattainable desire. Touching her was inconceivable, a mistake even more fatal than allowing myself to be in this room.

I could not allow myself to love her without hurting her, which presented a dilemma. I could not avoid the first, for I knew I was no longer only in danger of loving Bella; it seemed ridiculous to have even denied it in the first place. I would love her for the rest of my existence. Yet I could not deny the risk of hurting her. I longed to mean it, to say I would not harm her and swear it by the saints, but promising and swearing would not change what I was.

There she lay, blissfully unaware of the foreboding threat which sat across from her, pining for her, hungering for her.

I could not return to the room again, for the only thing worse than my obsession with her, would be for her to reciprocate the feeling. This girl could never love me. The anguish I felt at this fact was overwhelming, and for a moment I drowned in the misery of it.

I rose from the chair and gazed at her face for a long moment before turning to leave.

As her breathing hitched I froze. She cried out "Edward!"

I span round, expecting her to have awoken and seen me. I prepared myself for the look of terror and disgust on her face, but she lay with her head against the pillow, her eyes sealed shut.

"Don't leave Edward, please stay with me" she murmured through trembling lips.

She was dreaming. I was there in her dream… and she wanted me to stay there with her.

And in that second, my dead heart, a heart which had not beat in over eighty years, felt like it had come to life once again.

***

After several moments of concentrating on breathing in and out, in and out, I sank back into the rocking chair. I didn't have to breathe of course, but it was an old habit and provided me with the sense of smell. In and out. In and out. I waited.

I waited for an hour or so, just to be on the safe side, but nothing happened.

I paced silently around the room. I even inhaled right next to one of the lumpy pillows where she lay, but still nothing. The fire in my throat remained. Yet the monstrous urge to seize this fragile white body and sink my teeth into her ivory throat, to feel the skin rip and tear beneath my lips, the longing to experience her warm crimson blood flow through my mouth and around my body, until she became still and cold… was gone. When I imagined the scenario I had played in my head, over and over again, I felt nothing. I felt… ill at best. It was as if my instincts had reversed, I was shying away from any course that would inflict her harm.

Vampires have always been peculiar creatures, but this was something else. I waited for the primitive urge to return, convinced that this blessing was going to be short lived. It didn't.

A feeling of elation coursed through my being. I felt as though every part of my body was on fire; the kind that made me burn with hope and passion, it filled me with courage.

Very slowly I knelt at the side of Bella's bed. I didn't know what her reaction to my being here would be, nor could I make myself care. If I didn't tell her exactly how I felt, this very moment, I thought I would explode. I was like a meteor soaring recklessly though an endless universe and if I didn't collide with something soon, this euphoria would cause me to erupt into a billion flickers of debris.

Cautiously, I lifted my shaking hand and let the back of my palm drift from her temple, across her cheek, to the corner of her mouth. I paid acute attention to be sure I was very gentle, like a moth fluttering across the surface of a lake. Just because I no longer wished to kill her, didn't mean I wasn't very capable of doing so by accident. I would still need to be exceptionally wary.

My skin, even whiter than hers in the chalky moonlight, seemed to burn where it had come into contact with hers. I froze as my icy touch caused her eyes to flicker, waiting for her response. Would she scream? Try to runaway? I would have to try to calm her down immediately before she woke her father…

To my astonishment, when her wide brown eyes opened, they gazed up into mine. A number of emotions dawned across her face; confusion, realisation, then… peacefulness? Not one of them the shock or upset which I had envisioned. She smiled a little at what must have been _my _shock and raised her dainty hand towards my face.

I was motionless as her fingers traced the line my furrowed brow had created on my forehead. "Hmm Edward…" she murmured with amusement. "Always so worried… always so… serious…" She dropped her hand from my face and reached for one of mine, intertwining our fingers.

"Bella?" I whispered, unsure of her now more than ever before. "Bella, I need to tell you something." I lay quietly beside her, careful to keep a safe distance between our bodies in case, by some stoke of hideous luck, the monster should rise again.

But she sighed and her eyes drooped shut as she pressed her face into my shoulder, placing our hands on my chest. "Shh Edward… Shh… Don't leave Edward…"

I realised she was still dreaming, only semi-conscious, and let out a sigh of relief when I understood the reason for her complacent attitude to my being in her bedroom at 2.00am. Taking this time as an opportunity, I leaned my face against hers to whisper into her ear. Her balmy skin made mine almost warm.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled sleepily.

"I love you" I whispered.

A peaceful smile formed on her ruby lips. "I love you too Edward"

We lay there in silence, as I listened to her breathing and mine in synchronisation, her pulse, her heartbeat. When I was sure she was deeply asleep once again, I tore myself away, knowing that I would be leaving half of myself here with her.

I bent down to take one last look at her face, to savour the sweet fragrance of her blood and quietly murmured "Goodnight my Bella."

As I turned to leap through the window into the inky night I smiled. "Sweet Dreams".

* kind of based on Midnight sun. i was devastated when the internet l;eak happened and totally agree with Stephenie's decision not to finish it, it must have been awful for her. But yeah, this is my version, inspired by the one on the Stephanie's website. and my FIRST fanfiction :)

please any reviews will be GREATLY appreciated thank youuu XD

iris 3


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